


The Language of Flowers

by Lord_of_Spirits_and_Bazongas



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Angst, F/F, magivel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11575917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_of_Spirits_and_Bazongas/pseuds/Lord_of_Spirits_and_Bazongas
Summary: Magilou decides to pay her friend a visit.





	The Language of Flowers

It was a rare thing for Magilou to notice how good the weather was, but this day was a rare exception. The wind blowing on her face caused her long hair to be blown back. She had to grab a hold of her hat so it wouldn’t get swept away. The warmth of the sun also greeted the self proclaimed witch by shining on her face. For a brief moment, Magilou glanced up into the skies, only to see a flock of birds before the sun caught her eye. Pulling her hat down a little bit, Magilou continued walking through the busy streets of Loegres.  
  
“Humans are truly peculiar things, wouldn’t you agree, my partner in crime?” Magilou mused, turning her head to the side to see her, mostly faithful, malak Bienfu floating right next to her.  
  
“Oh absolutely. I couldn’t agree with you more Miss Magilou.” Bienfu was quick to reply, nodding a few times as if to make sure his point came across. “But Miss Magilou, aren’t you a human, too?”  
  
Magilou narrowed her eyes for a bit. Admittedly, Bienfu had grown to be a smart ass most likely thanks to her influence, but it still didn’t mean she would let such slander go unpunished.  
  
“Well I suppose I can’t really deny that, now can I? But that’s besides the point.” Magilou swirled her index finger in the air for a bit, hopping forward instead of walking for a bit before continuing: “What I mean is, just look around you. It’s not that long ago when we came here and everyone was willing to throw their lives away. Their wills robbed, acting like mindless sheep following their precious shepard even down a cliff if he told them to. You remember all that, right?”  
  
“Of course I do, I was there too.”  
  
“Yes, yes you were. Anyhow, what I’m trying to say is that most of them are already acting like nothing happened. I suppose it’s better to forgive something like that, but at the same time, even I’m baffled with how quickly people can just move on.”  
  
“Have you moved on already, miss Magilou?” Bienfu was a bit hesitant to ask, already floating a bit further away in case Magilou saw fit to punish him for asking something so personal.  
  
For once, even the silver tongued witch couldn’t come up with an immediate response. “... I’m not sure.”  
  
*  
  
With the weather being so inviting, it was no surprise to see that the marketplace was filled with not only people, but of merchants and sellers of all kinds. Outside of the usual food and beverages, there were clothes, weapons, jewelry... something for everyone. Magilou, however, was visiting Loegres for one reason and one reason only.  
  
“You have a very keen eye.” A middle aged woman said as she knelt down next to Magilou, who was busy observing a peculiar pot of flowers. “These are a pretty rare and hard to find breed. They are called--”  
  
“Albina Alabastergrass, if I’m not mistaken?” Magilou interrupted.  
  
“Yes, that’s right. Not many people know about these flowers. Some people buy them in small supplies, even though I always try to tell them they won’t survive on their own. They need each other to survive and live.”  
  
“A good friend of mine once told me that too.” Magilou flashed the flower merchant a smile. One that didn’t try to hide anything mischievous as it often did. “I’m going to make an assumption and say they are indeed for sale and not only for show, right? I was thinking of bringing some of these to my friend. She’s a bit of a sucker for flowers after all.”  
  
“Oh yes, they are indeed. But I hope you buy more than just a small bunch. It’d be such a waste to see something so beautiful just wither away, wouldn’t you say so?”  
  
For the second time that day, Magilou was unable to come up with a straight answer on the spot. Instead, she simply nodded initially before replying: “I couldn’t agree more.”  
  
As the gald had exchanged hands and the flowers were being prepared for their new journey, something caught Magilou’s sharp eye. “Can you wait just itsy bitsy moment?” She didn’t wait for the woman’s response, as she ran off in midst of all the fauna before returning with one more small pot in her now slightly muddy hands. “And these ones too.”  
  
“Fuschia flowers. You clearly are an expert.” The woman chuckled lightheartedly.  
  
“Yes. My... old man wasn’t much to speak of, but he had a soft spot for flowers. Guess it runs in the family or something.” Magilou grinned as she tossed another sack of gald onto the desk.  
  
“They are indeed very beautiful. I wonder where they got their nickname, though?” The woman rubbed her chin for a brief moment before she started to wrap up Magilou’s addition into a nice package.  
  
“Oh, what’s that, I wonder?” Magilou inquired, leaning on her hands with her elbows resting against the desk.  
  
“Blood drops.” The woman pointed at more red variation of the flowers Magilou had just picked. The one she had decided to go with were of more purple in terms of color, but otherwise more or less the same.  
  
“Well, I suppose they do look a bit like them,” Magilou offered an answer.  
  
“There you go,” The woman handed over another bouquet of flowers on top of the package Magilou was already holding. “I hope your friend enjoys these.”  
  
“Oh, I’m positive that she will.”  
  
*  
  
Even though Magilou didn’t have to walk up the mountain top, it was still hard to maintain her balance from time to time. Her guardians, while able to keep her up in the air, were a bit thin, therefore they had a tendency of turning really easily from just a small gust of wind. Magilou’s eventual struggle ended soon enough, as she reached the mountaintop, and collapsed on a bed of flowers greeting her with their multiple colors.  
  
If Magilou had known how it all would end, she would have gotten something better to represent her than a tattered piece of her clothing and one of her worn out blades. It was in many ways odd to have a grave for a person who technically wasn’t dead, but not truly alive either.  
  
Magilou stayed in the bed of flowers, glancing up into the open sky once more. There were a lot of reasons for why she had chosen this place to be the symbolic resting place of the Lord of Calamity she had travelled with. For once, no matter how much hatred her name would garner in the hearts of men, they wouldn’t be able to destroy this memorial when they couldn’t find it, let alone get to it. The ground was fruitful and strong as well, ensuring that whatever was planted there would survive and flourish.  
  
Closing her eyes, Magilou let the sweet fantasies she often pushed into the back of her mind resurface. The images of travelling around the world together with her were both strong and vivid. They were enough to make her instinctively reach out for a hand that wasn’t there. All that time spent together; all those nights; they were but distant memories now. Memories that Magilou found herself clinging to, even though she knew it’d only hurt her. It was the curse of a storyteller, to know the truth of it all, yet unable to say it out loud. If only the world knew that the band of misfits the world would deem as nothing more than murderers were truly the heroes of that particular tale.   
  
_It’s truly a twisted world that mourns over the death of a false savior and hates the one who saved us all…_ __  
__  
The blade was still tainted in blood, much like every piece of equipment Velvet had gotten her hands into. She had been reckless, merciless, and fierce; but at the same time, inspiring. She had broken more times than the rest of the group had noticed, yet still she had kept on fighting. Even when facing seemingly impossible odds, she had stood tall and fought until the very, bitter end. Just as promised, she had delivered death to Artorius and freed the world from his twisted ideals, giving humanity another chance to redeem itself.  
  
“To think you’ll always be remembered as a monster,” Magilou said out loud as she adjusted the blade that kept the torn piece of clothing from flying away with the wind. In the midst of all the white bed of flowers, there were some purple fuchsias as well. Perhaps they didn’t make for the best pair, perhaps they fought over the nutrients, perhaps they were ugly together, yet Magilou wouldn’t have it any other way.  
  
“Sweet dreams to you, Velvet.” Magilou pulled her hat down as she felt the first tear drops flowing down her cheeks, dripping on the white and purple sea of flowers. “... Sweet dreams.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me at tumblr http://lordofspiritsandbazongas.tumblr.com/ If you have ideas, suggestions, feedback, comment, anything like that, feel free to contact me.


End file.
